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<title>The Perfect Date by beckzorz (heckofabecca)</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22755379">The Perfect Date</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/heckofabecca/pseuds/beckzorz'>beckzorz (heckofabecca)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Secret Relationship, Valentine's Day</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 11:06:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,185</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22755379</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/heckofabecca/pseuds/beckzorz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky tells the story of the best date he's ever had.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>60</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Perfect Date</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“That does sound pretty sweet,” Bucky says nonchalantly. He take a final slurp of his iced coffee.</p><p>Sam smirks. “Yes she sure was.”</p><p>“Fireworks, flowers, lingerie, a gunfight… How are you going to top <em> that</em>, Bucky?” Natasha asks. She drapes herself on the arm of Sam’s chair and raises her eyebrows.</p><p>“Well,” Bucky says, “easily.”</p><p>You roll your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips as you start unloading your tray of clean glasses at the bar. The worst thing about your job on the housekeeping staff at the compound is that you can’t <em> tell </em> anyone what hilarious bullshit comes out of the Avengers’ mouths. The other staff, sure, but not your friends on the outside.</p><p>Well, insofar as you’ve got friends on the outside. Which… not really.</p><p>“Well, we got started at a little bar in Minsk,” Bucky begins.</p><p>Your eyes widen as you slide a wine glass into its upside-down holder under the overhead cabinet. In Minsk?</p><p>Uh oh.</p><p>“Nice and dim, a couple booths… Kinda a mix between classy and not.”</p><p>You steal a glance at Bucky. His eyes, bluer today with that fitted turquoise shirt he’s wearing, are sparkling in the sun streaming in from the giant windows. He’s not looking at you—why would he be?</p><p>Okay, enough dreaming, back to the tumblers.</p><p>“There’s this table of middle-aged guys hitting on the waitress,” Bucky continues. “It’s normal stuff there, y’know.”</p><p>“Normal here too,” Natasha says drily.</p><p>“Well. Yeah.” Bucky shifts in his seat. “Anyway, so in walks this woman with a long coat and tall boots—”</p><p>“How do you know her boots were tall if she was wearing a coat?” Sam interrupts.</p><p>“Cool your tits, I’m getting there,” Bucky says. “Anyway, so I was at the bar, getting intel, and this woman struts in—no, she wasn’t strutting, she was… stalking, I guess. Like Nat stalks.”</p><p>You have you bite your tongue. Comparing his date to Natasha? He’s cutting it <em> close</em>.</p><p>“So she stalks over to the bar, orders a drink, and heads straight for the dart board at the back.”</p><p>There’s a particular glass that you don’t recognize. It’s beautiful—nearly paper-thin, with a detailed pattern of air bubbles caught inside the glass—but sturdy enough to survive the dishwasher. Asgardian, maybe? You tilt it to catch the light, and the air bubbles inside glitter like gold. Gorgeous.</p><p>“And you’re just watching her?” Sam asks.</p><p>“If you were there, you’d’ve been watching her too,” Bucky assures him. “Trust me.”</p><p>“So… did you play darts with her?” Natasha asks.</p><p>The Asgardian glass can go in the display against the wall, you decide.</p><p>“Not exactly.”</p><p>You can hear the glee in Bucky’s voice, and you let out a slow breath as you turn back to face the room and get another bunch of glasses to put away.</p><p>“She grabs all of the darts in one hand and immediately comes back to the bar, takes a swig of her drink, and then turns around and <em> whips </em> a dart at this blond guy sitting at the other end of the bar.”</p><p>“Shit,” Sam says; in the same breath, Natasha says, “Good for her.”</p><p>Bucky’s quivering in his seat. “Hits him straight in the cheek. So the bartender yells, the middle-aged men yell, and I have to duck because the blond’s friend—I think his name was Zhuk—pulls out a gun and shoots at her, but she’d already moved and it would’ve hit me if I didn’t get outta the way.”</p><p>“Shit!” Sam exclaims. “The fuck! What kinda crazy—!”</p><p>You grit your teeth, hard, as you slide champagne glasses into their slots hanging under the counter. It’s <em> so </em> hard not to speak, but you’re gagged as thoroughly as if—well, hm. You squeeze your eyes shut for the barest moment to contain your latest urge to grin. Not <em> quite </em>as thoroughly gagged.</p><p>Still, you can’t butt in. Bucky has to tell this tale on his own.</p><p>“My kinda crazy,” Bucky says smugly. “Smart crazy.”</p><p>“Funny,” Natasha teases, “that’s my type too.”</p><p>Bucky stretches out his leg and nudges her knee fondly with the toe of his boot.</p><p>“Anyway she throws the rest of the darts at once, then she just Obi-Wan Kenobis her way out of her coat and she’s fucking <em> draped </em> in weapons. Real beauties. Pistol between the shoulder blades, holsters at hip <em> and </em> thigh, knives in her belt…”</p><p>“Are we on a date with her weaponry or with her?” Sam says.</p><p>You’re finished putting the glasses away, and you’ve got to leave. You grab the tray, stuff it under your arm, and as you leave, you hear Bucky’s voice get louder with excitement.</p><p>“Both! She was just so <em> stunning! </em> She took them down to <em> perfection</em>, and I just sat back and watched. Maximum pain, non-lethal, the perfect take-out if you wanted to get…”</p><p>Not until you’re on an elevator do you break out laughing.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“So who won?”</p><p>Bucky blinks at you, confused. You’re in a tiny round booth, and he’s as close to you as he can be without actually dragging you into his lap. Arm twined through yours, hands clasped, fingers interlinked, your ankle crossed over his.</p><p>“In the best date ever battle,” you explain, and he cackles.</p><p>“I did, of course,” he says, looking for all the world like the Cheshire Cat. “I mean, first of all there was the spree through the back streets, then the disabling of a neighborhood power grid, a break for soup—”</p><p>“That was really good soup.” You sigh wistfully and lean your cheek on Bucky’s shoulder, smiling.</p><p>“Hah, yeah. What can I say, I’ve got good taste.” He squeezes your hand.</p><p>“Yes you do,” you declare.</p><p>“Where was I?” He clicks his teeth. “Oh yeah. Soup, you pretending to be a prostitute <em> extremely </em> enthusiastically—”</p><p>“Anyone would be enthusiastic if they got to hump your thigh and make out with you, even if they <em> weren’t </em> getting fake-paid for it,” you point out, squeezing his leg for good measure. “Anyway, don’t forget the fact that you made a damn convincing client.” Your fingers dance towards his crotch.</p><p>He glares at you, but he’s grinning, and those sweet lines around his eyes and lips make your heart dance.</p><p>“Yeah,” he says. “Guess I did.”</p><p>You kiss his cheek and pick up your glass. “Here’s to—let’s see, convincing people we like each other—”</p><p>“And don’t,” Bucky adds.</p><p>“—taking down a HYDRA sleeper cell with darts and daggers, and me <em> not </em> cracking up while you told that story to your hopefully oblivious teammates,” you finish.</p><p>Bucky snags his glass and clinks it against yours. “I’ll drink to that,” he says. “But first, I’d rather drink to us.”</p><p>“Just us?” you ask.</p><p>He smiles and leans his forehead against yours, pulling your clasped hands against his heart. “Yeah,” he murmurs.</p><p>You stare, eyes fixed on his, your heart pounding and toes curling and breath catching. The restaurant sounds—clinks from the kitchen, other couples’ voices, the orchestral music piping in above your head—all fade as you drown in his ocean-deep eyes.</p><p>“Yeah,” he says again. “Just us.”</p>
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